The Accidental Stand-In
by savvyliterate
Summary: It wasn't supposed to be Luke. It was never supposed to be Luke. But there was no one else, and suddenly he was yanking on scrubs and preparing to go into the delivery room with Rory.


This story came from the accidental juxtaposition of reading a fic that showed those closest to Rory reacting to her child's birth and the excellent "Father's Day, 2007" fic that centered around Rory and Luke's relationship. Wouldn't it be interesting if the person who was the least likely to be in the delivery room was the one actually there? Hopefully, this does them both justice.

 **Note:** When I researched Richard's name, I did not find a middle name for him. The only ones I found middle names for were the two Lorelais. So, for the purposes of this story, I culled the 1940s baby names list and made a selection from there.

* * *

 _"The Accidental Stand-In"_

It wasn't supposed to be Luke.

It was never supposed to be Luke.

He had no desire to be in the delivery room. It just wasn't his place. Maybe, once upon a time, had Anna actually told him she was pregnant with April, Luke would had been in the delivery room. No, he'd have insisted on it. And if Lorelai's pregnancy had managed to … no, he couldn't think about those dark days now, because that was then, and this was now, and holy shit, he was yanking on scrubs and preparing to go into the delivery room with Rory.

"Here's your dad," the nurse said cheerfully, propelling Luke forward as soon as he was guided through the double doors into the delivery room. He quickly averted his gaze when he saw that Rory's feet were in stirrups. Nope, not even looking in that direction.

"He's better than my dad," Rory said with a weak smile.

Luke sank onto the stool next to the bed. "Your mom told me they finally got seats on a flight, but it's still delayed from the storm."

Rory gave him a worried look, and he hope she couldn't see his own concern. "You don't have to be in here," she said after a moment.

His gaze was steady on hers. "I'm not letting you do this alone."

* * *

There had been a plan. It had been a good plan, a very detailed one. As Rory found her way back to herself throughout her pregnancy, the habits that once defined her had returned as well. Once more, books were piled all over the Crap Shack and the apartment above the diner, where Rory planned to move to when the baby wasn't keeping her up all hours of the night. There were at least three Kindles floating around the house, because one of them wasn't nearly enough to handle Rory's equally impressive digital library. The pro-con lists had also made a comeback, as well as detailed itineraries that she, Lorelai, Luke, Logan, Emily, and everyone else who had a role to play in this birth knew by heart.

Had it all gone to plan, as soon as Rory went into labor, Luke and Lorelai would take Rory to Hartford Memorial. Emily and Logan would be summoned from Nantucket and London, respectively. Luke's job was to make sure his girls got to the hospital, then field phone calls from all well-wishers and fend off any busybodies (namely Kirk) who decided to show up at the hospital, then he would go pick up Emily and Logan from the airport when they arrived. He would keep Lorelai supplied with coffee and sanity, and he would not step near the delivery room.

Fate _really_ loved to mock him.

Four weeks before her delivery date, Rory stumbled into the diner with one hand on her stomach, her pants stained from where her water had broken. She didn't make it farther than the table by the window where Babette and Gypsy were sitting. She grabbed onto it, doubling over in pain. All action screeched to a sudden halt as she cried out.

He heard her scream from the storeroom where he had gone to fetch more napkins. The box felt to the floor as Luke raced from the back, moving faster than he had in years. He dodged curious on-lookers until he was crouched by her side. Babette had leaped up from her seat in the meantime and had her arm around Rory, softly crooning to her while Gypsy looked on, vaguely horrified.

"I'm in labor," Rory gasped the obvious. "My water's broke."

"How far apart are they coming, sweetie?" Babette asked.

"10 minutes? Eight? I thought it was Braxton-Hicks again, but then my water broke …"

"I'll bring the truck around," Luke said, then scanned the busy diner. Everyone's attention was riveted on Rory as Babette tried to calm her down. He couldn't just close the diner down like when Lane had gone into labor a decade earlier. Then, it had been close to closing time already, but it was the middle of the day now, and there were too many people, but he had to get Rory to the hospital now, and-

Caesar poked his head out the kitchen. "I've got it boss, you go."

Luke yanked out his phone out of his pocket as he ran out the back and pulled the truck door open. This wasn't supposed to be happening now, was all he could think as he cranked the truck and checked the gas, grateful he had filled up that morning. Lorelai was in Nantucket with Emily, helping her with some museum event. Although Emily's original request had been for him to come along as well, they all agreed that Rory needed someone around for the two days that Lorelai would be gone just in case … well, just in case _this_ happened.

He dialed Lorelai's cell, but it went straight to voicemail. Same with Emily's. With not-quite-steady hands, he switched to text and thankfully remembered how to do a group message. "Rory's in labor. Come home now," he typed out, autocorrect kicking in as needed. Then he tossed the phone on the dash and pulled the truck around front.

Babette and Gypsy guided Rory out the door and into the passenger seat. "Can you keep trying Lorelai?" Luke asked Babette as she helped Rory put on her seat belt. "I think she and Emily are still at that event of theirs."

"I can find the name of the museum and call them there," Babette volunteered. She patted Rory's knee. "You'll be OK, sweetie."

"Keep breathing," Gypsy instructed.

"I will," Rory promised.

"No, I'm talking to Luke."

Luke glared at Gypsy before pulling away from the curb.

They stopped at the Crap Shack just long enough to pack the overnight bag Rory prepared just a couple days earlier at her doctor's suggestion. Then they hit I-91, and he threaded his way through traffic as fast as he dared, conscious of the precious cargo he bore. They didn't speak on the drive there. Luke was too nervous to even come up with a decent rant on traffic, and Rory was too busy focusing on breathing. About halfway there, Rory reached in her purse for her phone, dialing a number herself.

"Logan," she said as the call went to voicemail. "It's time. I'm on my way to the hospital. Just wanted to let you know." She ended the call and gave Luke a sideways glance. "Will you be OK if I called my dad?"

"Yeah, not a problem." And it wasn't. He and Lorelai were married and happy, and Christopher hadn't been a threat for years. Still, he tuned out as Rory talked quietly with her father, ironically the only person they tried to call who actually picked up the phone. He was in Paris visiting Sherry and G.G. and promised he would on the next flight out.

Luke pulled off at the exit for the hospital and was at the light when Rory suddenly grabbed the hand that was on the gearshift.

"What? Now?" Every medical show Lorelai forced him to watch flooded into his mind all at once, and no, no, he was _not_ delivering this baby in the front seat of the truck. The hospital was just a block away. He could see the emergency room sign taunting him with its closeness.

"No. No, just … contraction."

Luke pulled to the side of the road and let Rory crush his hand until the contraction passed. When she let go, he finished the drive to the hospital, pulling straight up to the emergency room doors before throwing the truck into park and rushing around to help Rory out. As she climbed down, an orderly came out the door with a wheelchair, followed by Paris Geller.

"Aren't you supposed to be running a fertility-" Luke started to ask, but Paris cut him off.

"I have privileges here and happened to be on a consult," she snapped as Rory settled herself in the wheelchair. "How far apart are your contractions?"

"You're not going to be in the delivery room, Paris," Rory said through gritted teeth as another contraction hit.

"Of course, I am. Someone competent has to be in there." Paris whipped around, Luke the focus of her attention once more. "Where's Lorelai?"

"In Nantucket with her mother."

Paris scowled. "Why aren't you trying to reach her?"

Luke very nearly rolled his eyes at her. "Because I figured Rory would like to have her kid in a hospital, not on the side of the 91!"

"Well, then, get her," Paris ordered, and before he could retort that he was trying to do just that, they had wheeled Rory away.

Luke parked the truck, got Rory's bag, and steeled himself to go in the hospital. God, he hated these places. All he could think of was the bad things that happened every time he entered one: his parents' deaths, Richard Gilmore's heart attacks, Lorelai's miscarriage that they never told anyone about. This time was different, he told himself as he walked in the front doors. There _was_ going to be a baby this time, and he had learned over the years that babies weren't all that bad. Well, no, this baby was a Gilmore: a little piece of Rory and a little piece of Lorelai. This baby was going to be amazing.

He had just gotten Rory's room number from the information desk when Lorelai finally called.

"Mom's using every connection she can to get a plane off the island," she said, sounding slightly out-of-breath. In the background, he could hear Emily in full Gilmore mode, ordering people around like a general going into battle. "But there's a storm rolling in, and it's going to cause delays at the airport, so I don't know when we're going to make it to Hartford. Logan?"

"Couldn't reach him. Got ahold of Christopher though."

"He was in Paris last time Rory mentioned him."

"Yeah. Still there."

"I promised I'd be there," Lorelai moaned.

"I'll stay with her," Luke promised. "I won't leave her alone."

"Thank you," she said, and he heard the relief in her voice. "See if Lane can come, that should also help things out."

"Paris is here, too."

"Yeah, I'd heard some rumors to that effect. Not even going to ask how she got privileges at Hartford Memorial considering her clinic's in New York, but … Anyhow, squeezing a watermelon out from between your legs takes time. Speaking from personal experience here. Anyhow, Mom and I should make it if her connections play out."

"Be safe," Luke ordered, every statistic he'd ever heard about small plane crashes rolling through his head. Hadn't John F. Kennedy Jr. died on his way to Nantucket? No, no that was Martha's Vineyard. _Still_.

"Stop worrying the plane is going to crash," Lorelai responded, knowing him all too well. "Just focus on Rory. I love you."

"I love you too," Luke choked out, not caring who heard him because they were going to take a tiny flying death trap to get to Hartford, and no he couldn't think about it right now because he had to focus on Rory.

* * *

Everything had happened in such a rush at first, but then it slowed down. Way down. Down to the point that Paris finally determined they had to do something.

"There are things are guaranteed to speed things along," Paris said crisply as she helped Rory to her feet and detached the IV so Rory could take it along with her. "Massage, squatting, a warm bath. But the best by far is either sex or walking. Now, I can bring you a vibrator …"

"Not in front of my _stepdad_ , Paris," Rory moaned.

"Or you can take a walk."

There was no question which of the options Rory was going to choose.

"It felt like this was happening so fast at first," Rory complained as she took slow steps around the maternity ward, Luke by her side. "but now the baby's not doing anything."

"I think that's how it's supposed to work," he said. "Consider it a preview of the teenage years."

"Joy," Rory sighed. She glanced off to her right, her attention caught by a large plate-glass window that provided a view into the nursery. Row after row of tiny plastic bassinettes spread before them. She'd been in this room once, more than 32 years earlier. Within hours, her own child would be there.

She gave Luke a sideways glance as he solemnly looked at the newborns, fiddling with the tubing on the IV as she did so. Then she saw it, just for a moment, as Luke blinked hard. Her brain suddenly slotted random bits of information from the past into place, making logical conclusions that she would have known instinctively once upon a time. Shame rolled through her. She'd been so caught up in her own life, and for a number of years, the time she spent in Stars Hollow had been measured in days, sometimes even hours. She never even thought to ask.

"You and Mom tried to have a baby, didn't you?" Rory guessed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Luke's jaw worked hard, and for a moment, Rory was scared he was going to cry. He _never_ cried. She could count on one hand the times she'd seen him cry: her graduation from Chilton, the morning she left to cover the Obama campaign, April's high school graduation, and his own wedding. She found herself taking his hand in hers and squeezing it tightly.

"About eight years ago now," Luke finally replied, his voice raspy. "We'd just found out, were actually about to tell you and April, when your mother started bleeding. They couldn't stop it. They were telling me to call you, call your grandparents, come to the hospital because they thought …" His chest hitched, and Rory felt tears well up in her own eyes. "I got your voicemail and was about to call your grandparents when they got the bleeding stopped, and I just … and she had a hysterectomy, and that was that."

Rory's memory flashed back to a strange voicemail she received from Luke eight years earlier. Her phone had died while on assignment, and by the time she'd gone through the voicemail and called home in a panic, she'd been told that her mother was in the hospital after the stomach flu caused dehydration. Rory had offered to come home immediately, but both her mother and Luke insisted she remain on her assignment.

Her next visit home, a rushed one about three weeks later, she saw that they were abnormally subdued, like they were trying to put on a show of cheerfulness for everyone. Her mother had moved around the house slowly, and Luke had hovered, being far more protective than usual. Why hadn't she noticed? Because, Rory thought with guilt twisting in her gut, Logan had surprised her during that visit as well, and she'd chalked up her mother's strange behavior to not quite being over the stomach flu.

"Why didn't Mom tell me?" she asked.

"We didn't want anyone to know. She didn't want you to worry or risk losing your job by coming home. Hell, we couldn't even talk about it. The only baby-related thing we had in the house was the pregnancy test she took. She was only nine weeks along, and they said the baby was growing in the wrong area, in her fallopian tubes. I had to tell them to do the surgery. I couldn't lose her, Rory."

Rory hugged Luke fiercely, openly crying now. "I'm so, so sorry," she sobbed. "I should have been there. Why wasn't I there?"

"You had your own life, Rory," Luke comforted her.

"But that wasn't an excuse." She pulled away, swiping at her cheeks. "I've hurt so many people, Luke, and now I wasn't there when you and Mom needed me most. Why didn't I learn from my mistakes?"

"Sometimes, it takes making a mistake more than once for the lesson to set in."

Rory wryly patted her stomach. "Yeah, well, tell me about it."

They continued their slow shuffle down the corridor, neither of them able to look at the babies now.

"Did Mom ever tell you about what happened with Dean?" Rory asked.

Luke shrugged. "I inferred it. There was talk, but they were careful not to do it in the diner. I'd thrown them out if I'd heard people talking about you like that. But I overheard Eastside Tilly in Doose's one day, and that confirmed it. I asked your mom and she said it was your business, so we let it drop."

Rory stared at the ground, at the flip-flops she wore. She'd swiped the pink, bedazzled shoes from her mother's closet. "Do you think I'm a horrible person? First Dean and now Logan?"

He didn't say anything at first, and her stomach sank. She knew she had disappointed her mother, her grandmother, and all her friends. But she didn't think she could take it if she disappointed _him,_ the only father figure she'd ever really had.

"I made a huge mistake when I married Nicole," he finally said. "Anna made a huge one when she didn't tell me about April, then I didn't tell your mother. And your mom …"

"With dad," Rory finished. "But, God, I've ended one marriage and the whole thing with Odette …"

"You didn't end Dean's marriage."

Rory gaped at him. "What?"

They came to a stop near one of the vending machines. Luke removed his hat, and ran his hand through his hair before replacing it. He frowned, then sighed. "The night before he got married, he was in the diner. Kept rambling on about how much he loved you, wondered why you didn't love him back. That marriage was in trouble from the start, Rory."

"But it was my fault."

"No, it was Dean's fault," he insisted.

Rory couldn't help but smile. "You're bound and determined to take my side in this, aren't you?"

"It was his responsibility," Luke said simply. He huffed a bit. "Look, I'm going to tell you something, and it's probably going to be weird, but that's just how it is."

He gestured toward Rory's room and they began their trek back down the hall. "I know what it's like to settle for someone just because you never thought you'd have the person you actually love. It's why I married Nicole, and it's why your mom married your dad. It's what Dean did. Cheating isn't right on anyone, but when the one you actually love wants to be with you, it's really hard to stay away. Dean was what … 18? 19? Grown adults don't have that willpower, and you two had barely graduated high school. What you did wasn't right, Rory, but I can see where it was coming from."

Rory leaned into Luke's shoulder, flinching as she felt another contraction start to build. "Thank you," she whispered, and felt a bit of the guilt slip away.

* * *

As the hours passed, it was apparent no one else was going to come. Logan still hadn't been reached, and the storm had delayed both flights and ferry travel from Nantucket. Eventually Lorelai called again, saying that they managed to get seats on a commercial flight to Boston, and they would hire a car from there. Zach had left for tour that morning, and at the last moment, Lane had decided to join him with the twins since they were out of school. Even April, whose science-loving mind would get an absolute kick out of being in the delivery room, wasn't there. She'd flown to New Mexico for an extended visit with her mother after graduation.

"I have a list of questions I'm emailing," April texted. "Get detailed answers and measurements! Pictures if your stomach can manage it, Dad."

"It's time," Paris snapped as she came out of Rory's room, just as Luke hung up with Lorelai. "Get scrubbed, you're up."

He nearly dropped the phone. "What?"

Paris placed her hands on her hips. "We're headed into delivery, pal, and your time's at bat."

Luke felt every ounce of color drain from his face. "I shouldn't in there," he protested.

"Well, tough. No one else is here but you and me. You wouldn't just leave Rory at a time like this, would you?"

He scowled at her. "Of course not, who the hell do you think I am?"

"Not her father, that's for sure," Paris said. She shrugged. "But as her dad, you're pretty OK."

The next hour sped by in a blur. Luke was gowned, scrubbed, and his hat was replaced with a cap that reminded him of the ones that Lorelai wore to keep her hair from getting wet in the shower. He sat at the head of Rory's bed, every breathing exercise he'd managed to google from his phone now etched in his brain as he talked her through the pain. He studiously avoided looking any further than the bottom of her chin, keeping her hands tight in his own.

As Rory gasped and tears rolled down her cheeks, Luke's memory rolled back to when she was ten years old and flitted into the diner with angel wings on her back, begging him to attend her caterpillar's funeral. He thought of the glimpses he'd seen of Lorelai and Rory around town before they ever came in the diner, one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen and the child that somehow was captivating. He thought of when Rory graduated Chilton and made him sob from her devotion to her mom. He thought of the huge fight that marred his and Lorelai's first engagement and the relief that came when mother and daughter reunited. He thought of the party they'd thrown when she left for the campaign trail, of her article in the New Yorker, of how proud he'd always been of her.

"You can do it," Luke said, every ounce of conviction he'd ever had about her ability to do anything in his voice. "Just one more push, you've got this."

Rory's gaze met his and she bore down one last time, her hands gripping his so tightly that for a brief moment, he worried she would break either his bones or hers in the process. Then she fell back as he heard a commotion, then a tiny cry and … oh God, there was a baby now.

"I did it!" Rory laughed and cried at the same time as the baby was quickly swaddled and rested it on her chest.

Before Luke could even begin to absorb what had just happened, Paris yanked him away and shoved a pair of scissors in his hand as the nurse clamped the umbilical cord. "Go on, it's ready."

Oh, no. He stared at the rope of tissue and felt his stomach roll. "What? I'm not cutting that! I'm not the kid's dad."

"You're the only one here, pops, so you're standing in for everyone."

It hit him then, the magnitude of what had just happened. The baby, god he didn't even know the sex yet, was at Rory's breast. Luke thought of Lorelai and how she'd been alone when Rory was born, and realized how close Rory had been to having no support at all. His eyes met Rory's, and she gave him a small nod.

More than a little unnerved, he cut where the nurse indicated. It was like slicing through a rope coated with jelly, but a quick snip later and the scissors were out of his hands and he was back at the head of Rory's bed.

"It's a boy," she whispered to him. "Broke a streak there."

"I don't think anyone minds. You did good, Rory." He couldn't stop smiling as his hand rested on the baby's head.

"Thank you for being here." Tears slid down her cheeks. "Scarred for life?"

"Just a bit," Luke confessed, and they laughed at the craziness of it all.

* * *

He stirred when he felt a hand on his shoulder, catching a whiff of familiar perfume. Luke blinked open his eyes to see Lorelai standing over him. On the other side of the room, Emily stood with the baby in her arms, talking quietly with Rory.

"When'd you get here?" he murmured, stretching his back as best as he could. He'd fallen asleep in the stiff visitor's chair in Rory's room and would be paying for it for the next few days, but he didn't really mind.

"About five minutes ago. Sorry we're so late. You should've seen Mom. She was in rare form trying to get us to Hartford."

"Pass, thanks." He rubbed the knot out of one shoulder and rolled his neck.

"Rory said you were in the delivery room," Lorelai said.

Why was everyone acting so shocked about this? "Didn't want her to be alone like you were."

Lorelai sniffed as Luke came fully awake. "And you cut the umbilical cord," she added.

"That was a bit weird," he admitted.

Suddenly, Lorelai's arms were around him, and he felt her tears against his neck. Frantically, he looked over her shoulder at Emily and Rory, but they were too absorbed with the baby to notice. "Hey, hey, it's OK," he soothed, rubbing her back. "Everything's fine."

"I couldn't be here," she sobbed into his shoulder. "I missed my grandbaby's birth, and I'll never get that back."

"We didn't know. The kid didn't exactly text us ahead of time, did he?"

She managed a weak laugh. "Thank you for being here and taking care of Rory."

"Where else would I be?" Luke asked, slightly offended.

Lorelai kissed him, and it felt like a reward for all the hours of worry and fear he'd carried for all of them. When she pulled away, running her thumb over his cheek, he sighed. "Can you at least talk her out of naming the kid after me?"

"No." Lorelai kissed his nose.

"Not changing my mind," Rory sang out, overhearing him.

Luke tried his best to glare at Rory and failed, instead blushing. "You don't want to saddle your kid with my name."

"I think Frank Lucas Gilmore is a perfectly fine name," Emily spoke up, receiving shocked looks from her daughter, son-in-law, and granddaughter.

"I wanted to name him Richard," Rory confided in them after Emily handed the baby to Lorelai and went to the bathroom to freshen up. "But then I thought of all the Dick jokes, and well, I don't think his name would go over quite as well these days as it did in the 1940s. So, I settled on Grandpa's middle name."

"Has to be better than all the 'Luke, I am your father' jokes I got," Luke groused. "And that includes from your mother."

Lorelai stuck her tongue at him and turned her attention back to Frank, murmuring to him in a low voice. Curious, Luke moved closer and smiled when he caught the snatches of what she was telling him. Of course Lorelai would be telling the baby about the day his own mother was born. He wondered if Rory would carry on the tradition with Frank.

"And," Rory continued, "I loved _Cheaper by the Dozen_ when I was a kid, and the dad was Frank Gilbreth. He was one of the pioneers of time and motion study and an efficiency expert. His wife was even more brilliant, and she designed the modern kitchen as we know it. So, it's a good name to have."

They stayed for another hour. Photos were taken, and Rory finally managed to get ahold of Logan, showing off their son to him via a Skype video call. When they were leaving to drive back to Stars Hollow, Rory asked Luke to remain behind while Emily spoke with the nurse about getting better bedding for Rory. Lorelai followed Emily to ensure that she didn't make a scene.

Rory urged to Luke to her bedside when he hung back, not quite sure what she wanted. He hesitated, then approached the bed, lightly resting a hand on the guardrail. Rory had Frank on her chest, absently stroking the baby's back as she stared at the baby with a mix of awe and wonder.

"Thank you again," she said, after a moment.

Luke shoved his hands in his pockets, embarrassed. "You don't need to thank me."

"Not everyone would do it," Rory said quietly. She laughed a bit giddily. "Look, I'm feeling really sentimental, sappy, and loopy, and wow was Mom ever right about the drugs. Those are some _really_ good drugs. You should try them one day."

"I'll take your word for it," Luke said, amused.

"Anyhow," Rory continued. "I read once that you don't have a say in who your parents are. But stepparents, they choose to love you when they don't have to." She fidgeted with Frank's blanket, then fixed those same doe eyes on him that never failed to make his heart melt. "Thank you for choosing to love me," she said, her voice thick with tears.

Luke didn't either bother to hide his own. He just hugged Rory and Frank as tightly as he could.


End file.
